


The sigh of silence

by SnapeLove



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: AO3 FB Challenge, Challenge Response, F/M, POV!Olivia(BtVS), Sex, Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 17:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15490809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnapeLove/pseuds/SnapeLove
Summary: She didn't think she would face a nightmare face to face when she came to visit him. All she wanted was a bit of time with him, preferably alone time between sheets. Not this...horror.The story is set in season 4, episode Hush.





	The sigh of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the BtVS world, I don't own the characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it. 
> 
> A/N: This story incorporates two different challenge prompts.
> 
> 1) Challenge one: BraixenBoy17 2018 12 month fanfiction challenge  
> One prompt per month  
> Minimum 650 word count for each chapter  
> July- "How could you do this?"
> 
> 2) Challenge two: AO3 FB page Fanfic Roulette  
> Fandom: New Fandom (one that you never wrote for)  
> Pairing: Rare Pairing  
> Setting: Canon Compliant
> 
> And huge, huge THANK YOU for my lovely betas FawkesyLady (Tarma) and Tillthewheelsfalloff. They gave me courage and support, not to mention made this story readable and not riddled with my grammar blunders. <3

Olivia stretched and yawned. She could purr.

Yesterday she spent hours on end cramped up in a plane, next to a woman who obviously considered water and soap as something dangerous. Not even an empty seat between them could help. The movie about baseball bored her to tears, she mentioned it to Giles with a smile upon her arrival, he knew how much she hated those kinds of movies. The moment he had opened the door, made the tedious journey worth it.

True, he was older than she was. Much older… but what you could expect? She was a student when they met and he was a guest lecturer. Not on any of the courses she followed, but she was curious and bored so she went to hear his lecture anyway. She didn’t regret her decision, the man was mouthwatering good looking in a geeky and bookish way, with his tweed jacket and something dark, deeply hidden in his eyes. She spent most of his lecture listening carefully and making rough sketches of him, wondering what kind of body was hidden beneath all that proper behaviour and sexy British accent.  

Later on, she did her best to find out where he would be and to create situations where they could meet with carefully choreographed coincidences- others might call that stalking. Lucky for her, he wasn’t as “stiff and proper” as she expected given his nationality. Finally, she met him at one of the parties, and she allowed him to seduce her with bizarre stories and sweet silly lies.

She never regretted it. Giles was an interesting conversationalist, well versed in the art, and an extremely engaging, innovative, passionate lover.

She stretched again, aching a bit in a pleasant way. Oh yes - very passionate. If last night was anything to go by - she was up for an interesting few days. That is if those _kids_ don’t show up again.

She was jarred from her thoughts when the door banged open and Giles rushed into the room. His hair was tousled and his brow was furrowed. Something had put him on edge. Before she managed to say a word he kissed her. Olivia tried to melt into his kiss.

Tried being the keyword. The kiss Giles gave her was panicked, full of tension. His thumbs caressed her cheeks with a feeling of desperation she couldn’t understand. The sharp aftertaste of whiskey, left behind as they broke off.

_What made him drink this early? Oh my, he’s going to dump me!_

Giles moved away from her, his eyes soft, but worried. Before she could speak, he placed a finger on her lips and handed her a note, torn from a notebook, left open and forgotten on his table last night when she arrived.

Confused, Olivia gave him a tentative smile. Perhaps this was some sort of a game? She had nothing against playing games - maybe a bit of mime? If she’s lucky enough, she may even mime him out of his boxer shorts and back into the bed. Olivia opened the note and frowned.

 _‘Don’t panic, but...something happened - I think everyone has lost their voices._ ’

This wasn’t funny. She raised her eyes to look at him, Giles was looking much too serious for her liking. She narrowed her eyes sizing him up - he was in his boxer shorts, and she knew him well enough to know he didn’t go on the street in that state of undress. _If_ this was true, she could venture a guess that he discovered his lack of ability to speak under the shover. But, to presume that everyone had lost their voices - well, that was presumptuous - and yet, typical Giles.

He pressed one finger to his lips, and pointed first at the house robe draped at the foot of the bed, then to the window. Fine, she could play along a bit longer. Grimacing, she continued to read, still hoping that this was only a bad joke.

‘ _It is not just you and no you did not go deaf, it is just that we can’t produce a sound._

_I’ll figure it out. Just, please - stay calm._

_And, get dressed. Buffy, Willow, Xander and Anya will be coming shortly, I’m sure of it._ ’

Olivia knitted her brows even harder, she knew that Giles had a bit of a darker side underneath all that tweed but this wasn’t funny.

“Not funny…” she started and stopped. Olivia frowned at Giles’s sad and worried face. He just shook his head in slow motion and caressed her cheek mouthing a silent.

“Sorry.”

“How? What could do this?” she tried again but no sound came from her mouth.

A loud banging broke through the silence. She jumped and looked at Giles pleading him to explain, to give at least some meaning to this insanity. Giles just tapped at the last line on the note and took his jeans, slipping them on. He rushed out of the room barefooted, tugging a sweater over his head.

She watched with bewilderment at his back, feeling terrified and confused. She listened tentatively but no sound came from the living room. That is - no voice. As she dressed, she could hear doors open and close, furniture being moved, a chair scratched over the wooden floor.

Slowly she entered the hallway and poked her head in the living room. There was a young man there, handsome and brawny, but obviously distraught and she got the impression that he wasn’t very bright. He was silently yelling like an idiot at Giles. Giles was trying to reason with him by mime and occasional scribble on the notebook - to no avail, the young man was beyond reason.

A girl with semi-short blond hair sat on the sofa. She looked at the young man with sadness and shook her head. Suddenly the girl directed her eyes at her and blinked. The girl tilted her head and smiled knowingly to her with a slight nod. She stood up and tapped Giles on the shoulder. That action put the stopper on silent screaming and frantic hand waving.

Both Giles and the young man turned to her. Giles called her with a hand motion. He scribbled something on three pieces of paper and handed a piece to each of them. The young man was just standing, mouth gaping. The girl extended her arm and mouthed something, smiled sadly and looked at the paper before handing it to her.

 _Anya_ , it was written on it.

Olivia nodded and raise her own paper accepting the girl's hand. She didn’t know why but the girl inspired confidence. The young man wasn’t doing anything but drooling, she frowned when he waved at her and raised his paper.

_Xander._

She nodded and showed the paper with her own name.

Turning towards Giles she made a motion with her hand, signifying that she needs a drink. It was too early for that but Olivia was never one for conventions. And she really needed a stiff drink. Giles walked up to the fridge and took a bottle of cider, she shook her head and pointed at the bottle of bourbon in the open liquor cabinet.

Sometime later the three of them - Giles, Xander and Anya were huddled around the table, sifting through books and trying to communicate with each other without the use of words. It was almost like they were playing a game of charades that none of them knew how to win. That rude girl Buffy came with another girl, Willow. The entire group focused on looking through books.

Olivia stood next to the window and gazed despondently down at the street. She couldn’t decide if she was annoyed, angry, or just scared. On top of all, the entire town was in quarantine, and she couldn’t even leave - something she desired with all her heart. Fear of the unknown, one that she tried to hide and present herself as unaffected in front of all those kids. Why did Giles invited them? Why did he choose to devote his attention to them, leaving her to deal with this on her own?

It wasn’t that Giles didn’t pay attention to her, or better yet - he did, but she _needed_ more than a few passing touches. And not much more than that could be exchanged with a group of barely of age kids milling around the house. They finally left them alone when the sun was about the set, reluctant to go at all. They gave her sideways glances like she is to blame that they can’t stay more - all but Anya. Anya smiled at her and slipped her a note with words ‘ _Have many orgasms._ ’ She nearly laughed at that, oddly entertaining girl.

Conversation over dinner that night failed to lighten the mood. After all, silence couldn’t enlighten or entertain and having the TV or radio on felt too loud in the unnatural silence. What else could they do?

Giles tried to return to his research but she pulled his hand, shaking her head. She nursed quite a few glasses of bourbon throughout the entire day and as a result, she was just the right amount of tipsy. By the nightfall all her fear fermented to something else. A feeling crawling just beneath her skin. A sort of tension...

She knew how to deal with these sorts of feelings.

Giles was miles away from her in mind and spirit, consumed with the need to solve the problem; to find an end to the cursed silence, like he could anything about it. She knew him well enough to know that he would spend his life looking for a solution, even if it was out of his reach. She knew how to deal with that too. She closed his book and dragged him into the bedroom, her clever fingers tugging at the hem of his sweater. He allowed her to undress him and herself before taking a notebook, the one kept with himself through the day as a means of communication, and wrote.

‘ _I am truly sorry, I’m … I’m simply not in the mood, I have too much on my mind._ ’

A thought struck her, so she picked up her sketchbook and pencil with a winsome smile. Giles got the idea and grinned back, allowing her to arrange him on the bed. She took her tools and started to work. She could see the change in him as the time slipped by. She had a satisfying sketch of him now, sprawled over the sheets in all his glory. He may be older than she was but he was still good looking.

He motioned her to show him the drawing, and she crawled across the bed. While he studied the drawing with an impish smirk on his face, she traced her hands down his defined torso and abdomen. Licking her lips, she lowered her eyes to his now jutting organ. Ah. Jackpot!

_Ripper, how so very true - he could rip someone apart with this treat._

She smirked at him. His eyes danced full of smouldering fire. And there he was at long last, the man she was willing to suffer through that nightmarish plane ride for. She grinned and languidly dragged her tongue over the straining tip. It was odd, Giles was vocal but in this situation….he just arched a bit.

_Oh, this is going to be fun._

She kept nipping down the length, only occasionally giving a sporadic lick or a blow to the head, dragging it out until his hips worked in a slow rise and fall. He tried to touch her and steer her in the desired action but she swatted his hands. She kept him on the edge, teasing him.

Ever the lecturer, he was accustomed to instructing her on what he wanted, but now.. Now, he couldn’t say a word, and now he was in her power. She gazed into his heavy-lidded eyes, feverish and pleading. She took a pity on him and wrapped her lips around the glans, swirling her tongue. His hips bucked.

She bobbed her head in a slow motion, her eyes fixed on his. Oh, this was deliciously different. With the lack of ability to use words and sounds, to be distracted by them, she had to focus on his expression. The way he twitched when she moved just like so, fascinated her.

His face was an open book, emotions written all over it. This shared silent pleasure was more potent, more intoxicating than any liquor she ever tasted.

She hollowed her cheeks and sucked strongly, enjoying the mute signs of his bliss, in the arch of his back, in strong arms fisting the sheets, rumpling them around their bodies. She gently rolled his sack in her hand while using the other to grip the base of his cock, creating a temporary block, preventing him from orgasming too fast and too soon for her liking.

Olivia could only imagine the whining sound he would make. Releasing his cock from her mouth she blew over the wet tip, eliciting a shiver. Oh, she enjoyed this so much. She hungered for more, an insistent pressure deep within grew stronger with every delightful shudder Giles made.

Crawling over his body she smiled at him sweetly, she pressed her lips over his, letting him dominate the kiss. His hands fanned over her back while she fumbled, distracted by his skill. His fingers dug in her flesh when she finally managed to steer his cock to the entrance of her now demandingly aching core. Maintaining the loose connection between their bodies she straightened her back and descended slowly, savouring in a fine stretch and a slick slow glide.

Giles’ eyes rolled back in unvarnished ecstasy. She wiggled to find better purchase and then set a slow rocking rhythm, dragging her clitoris against his pelvic bone with each forward and backward motion, chasing her own pleasure.

He tried to put his hands on her breasts but she swatted them down again, claiming complete control. Focusing her gaze on his face she continued to rock her hips, lifting her hands from his chest to hers. She played with her nipples, rolling them, squeezing and tugging in the rhythm with her moves.

The sensation was surreal.

His expression was pure and undiluted lust, focused on her.

Olivia’s heart let go, entirely drunk on that feeling, his eyes, his...compliance...   

Heat started to rise, building inside her like pressure in a pressure cooker. She moved faster and faster, her rhythm erratic and rough. By the tremble of his thighs and digging of his fingers in her back, she could tell that he was holding back, waiting for her.

Suddenly light exploded in front of her eyes, the muscles inside her rippled, tugging on and she released a silent scream. For a moment she was lost to the world, washed away in the receding waves of pleasure. In reality, she was sagging bonelessly in the air, and distantly she felt Gile’s strong arms lower her tenderly down to the bed at his side. At length, her eyes regained enough focus to take in his tired and satisfied face, the harsh lines of tension gone, if only for a short while.

She needed this. Oh, how she needed this - to feel alive.

To feel lulled into a familiarity of intimacy.

To feel - normal.

Hours later, Giles was sleeping, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She used his chest as a pillow but sleep wouldn’t come to her. Wiggling out of his embrace, she donned a silky house dress and padded out to the kitchen.

On her way she heard an odd clicking sound and approached the window to investigate. The street seemed empty but then she thought she saw a reflection in one of the windows across the street.

_No, I must be mistaken, that’s not possible._

The image in the neighbours' window appeared to be floating, pale and somehow disfigured in a way that didn’t look disfigured but it still was. Against her better judgement, her curiosity prevailed and she leaned closer to gaze down the street contemplating should she take something stronger than a warm milk? Surely, she must be seeing things, how silly of her.

If she had her voice, she’d have woken the entire street with a terrified scream. A ghostly white face, huge eyes and a weird smile… No, not smile - the lips were pulled so much that they uncovered the row of oversized crooked teeth. The face was a distorted, grinning mask of horror.

Releasing the curtain, she backed swiftly backed away, pulling with trembling hands her house robe tighter around her body. Not wanting to know if that - thing - was still there, she went straight to the liquor cabinet and took the bottle of bourbon.

Two hours later the dawn was cracking the first strings of pale light, she was still shaking, trying to convince herself that what she saw was just a figment of her imagination or some twisted trick of her overtaxed brain. She jumped at a motion she caught only with the corner of her eye. It was Giles, who’d found her there and was looking at her with deep concern.

He approached her holding the notebook and scribbled. ‘ _Olivia, what’s wrong?_ ’

She snatched the note from his arms and scribbled with an unsteady hand. ‘ _I’m going insane. I’m seeing things._ ’

Tears finally rolled from her eyes, her whole body shook from silent sobs. Not silent, if she had her voice she would howl loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood. Giles hugged her, rocking her gently and kissing her forehead. She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like that, but finally, she calmed down.

Only then, he took the notebook and scribbled. ‘ _What do you think you saw?_ _Can you draw it?_ ’

She nodded, her hands shaking. She could draw it, but she would much rather make nude drawings of Giles than that atrocity in any state of dress. He took a blanket from the sofa and put it around her shoulders.

‘ _I’m going to make us coffee._ ’ He wrote.

A few hours later she managed to regain control enough to make a drawing. Around the time she finally managed to make the sketch, the Buffy girl (what kind of name is that, anyway?) showed up with newspapers…

Well, everything developed fast after that. They researched more, looking excited. Anya gave her something to drink and she finally fell asleep. When she woke up it was morning again. Giles was next to her, raised on one hand and smiling at her.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered.

Olivia sat in bed, her eyes bulging. She opened the mouth to speak and stopped herself… What if she still couldn’t talk?

He hugged her. “Go on, you can talk too.”

“Giles?” She tried, half expecting to fail. Excitement filled her when she heard her own voice. “How?”

“Buffy solved the problem.”

“Buffy? That kid?” Olivia was having a hard time keeping the annoyance from her voice. _Why do I sit in the bed with my lover and talk about that girl?_

“Yes, that is what she does, destroying the things… the monsters….” he waved a hand, his eyes alive with the promise of what was sure to be a fascinating lecture filled with entirely too many mentions of Buffy.

“Giles, it’s early and I want a coffee. Can we… I just got my voice back, can we talk about that later?” She lifted a hand to brush along the line of his jaw, playing with the rough stubble of his morning beard.

“Yes. I’ll make us a coffee.” He kissed her and got out of bed. Olivia watched him until he disappeared from her sight.

Oddly, she wasn’t happy, she wasn’t even scared anymore. All she could think was ‘ _How could you do this? Do this, expose me to it?_ ’ None of this could be  Giles’ fault. She knew that, and still, somehow she couldn’t escape the impression that danger dogged the man’s heels and that he encouraged it as lovingly as one might a favourite pet. 


End file.
